The Lost Art of Debate

Over the past decade, I’ve watched something troubling unfold: the slow erosion of real discussion. Once upon a time, a debate meant listening, questioning, and. if you were lucky, walking away with a new perspective, even if you still disagreed. Today, far too often, it feels more like a cage match. The goal isn’t understanding, but “victory.”

Empathy and thoughtful discourse, the kind where you exchange facts, ideas, and opinions in good faith, are beginning to feel as endangered as the dodo bird. In their place, we’re left with a familiar lineup of fallacies and rhetorical tricks: ad hominem attacks, strawman arguments, red herrings, whataboutism, and endless appeals to emotion. The prize isn’t wisdom or connection anymore. It’s who can drop the sharpest zinger or secure the loudest applause from their echo chamber.

I used to believe deeply in the power of debate. I still do. The best debates don’t just test ideas, but they sharpen them, reveal blind spots, and remind us of our shared humanity. But it breaks my heart to see how rarely discussions today are guided by empathy, good faith, or even wit. We’ve traded the pursuit of knowledge for the thrill of “owning” someone.

I don’t think it has to stay this way. If we can slow down, listen without the itch to score points, and argue with a little more humility, maybe debate can once again be about more than victory. Maybe it can return to what it was meant to be: a search for truth, and a chance to see the world through someone else’s eyes.